


The Daisy Who Wanted To See The Stars

by MirandasMadeOfStone



Series: Distance Perspectives [4]
Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, Memories, Rae's POV, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4057435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirandasMadeOfStone/pseuds/MirandasMadeOfStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a companion piece to my Distance Perspective: Three.<br/>I wrote this especially for bitchy-broken Happy Birthday my dear. Hope you like this!<br/>And thanks as always to my patient, kind and understanding uber-beta how-ardently.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Daisy Who Wanted To See The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to my Distance Perspective: Three.  
> I wrote this especially for bitchy-broken Happy Birthday my dear. Hope you like this!  
> And thanks as always to my patient, kind and understanding uber-beta how-ardently.

Rae’s eyelids gently flutter open to catch late Autumn’s sunny rays streaming in through the sash window of the terraced cottage in Leeds. She smiles momentarily before realising that it only serves to highlight the streaked glass window panes and the dust on top of the huge bookshelves housing some of their extensive, and possibly excessive, vinyl collection.

A small chuckle escapes her lips at this somewhat uncharacteristic moment of domestic pride. Her student digs had been a sordid mess; her own room had boasted clothes strewn all over the floor, piles of books and albums everywhere, and the communal areas were distinctly unsavoury and pretty filthy. But it had never really bothered her as she subscribed to her mate Katie’s philosophy that student life was all about new experiences and having fun. Sparkling clean and tidy accommodations featured nowhere on the priority list.

From her current vantage point she can survey most of the ground floor. It may be neither spacious nor modern but it most definitely feels like home. She instantly recalls the inaugural afternoon, which she had spent directing him to place framed band posters and photos on the wall in the pattern she envisioned. She giggles at how grumpy he had been, because naturally, he had wanted to set up his decks first. She had conceded on this step before setting him to task on building the Ikea Billy bookcases.

On that first night, they had snuggled up together on the sofa. Their cups of tea had quickly been discarded as his hand tangled in her hair and his lips found hers. The temperature had risen dramatically as he had temporarily thrown his new found caution to the wind. The house had certainly been christened in style.

A smile crosses her lips at the memory and she continues to take advantage of the serendipitous spell of silence by allowing her mind wander back to her former life. The life that had formed the unexpected foundations of this new and wholly unanticipated one.

Bristol University had represented a fresh start away from Stamford and all the uncomfortable memories that it held for her. Those of the bullying at school, her self-absorbed father, her difficult and tumultuous relationship with her mother. Despite having recognised the positives of her stay in the hospital, she had always felt that its presence had shadowed her time in college.

The high grades required as a prerequisite for her degree course had been well within her grasp. With the encouragement of Katie, her whirlwind new mate, they had both decided that Bristol was the place for them to study. It was sufficiently far away from home, a great University with challenging courses in a vibrant city with an expansive music scene and plenty of clubs and pubs. However much Katie had tried to downplay it, it had been impossible for her to deny the downside of Bristol.

She sighs at the memory and shifts in the armchair, curling her legs up underneath her. Although Finn had initially longed for her to stay, he had eventually become one of the most vociferous supporters of her decision. With hindsight, she comprehends just how painful and dissonant that must have been for him. But at the time, she had been convinced by others that if he couldn’t actively support her move, then he wouldn’t have been the man she had thought he was. He would have been holding her back.

The first couple of years away had proved more testing than she had envisaged for their relationship. She had been torn between the endless new and exciting opportunities that presented themselves on a near daily basis and her inherent longing for him. Her strategy had been to immerse herself in the former and to try and suppress the latter. Finn had tried to visit as often as he could during term time; although his work had afforded him the financial means to travel, it had not necessarily provided the time. There had been moments of intense frustration on her part when he had turned up exhausted after a long shift followed by a lengthy journey and she had been desperate to party with friends.

But there had been moments that had taken her breath away, when he had turned up unannounced in the small hours of the morning, following a tearful phone call. He had held her, stroked her hair and murmured loving endearments in her ear. She swallows thickly as she recalls one particular trip he had made midweek during her first year exams. It was gone 3am when he had arrived, eyes bruised and bloodshot. He had wrapped his strong arms around her sobbing form and soothed her off to sleep. Waking at 7am, she had found him gone, a scribbled note on the side apologising that he had to start work at 9.

Even now, she cannot fail to be moved by the six hours he had driven for what had constituted nothing more than a lengthy hug. She turns to the sofa where he is lying fast asleep on his side. Her breath catches ever so slightly at his dishevelled presence. Even the dark rings under his eyes, the sleep stricken hair, the resplendent stubble and the slight stain on his t-shirt can not dim his extraordinary beauty.

She notices the goosebumps on his arms and slowly levers herself out of her chair. Wandering over quietly, she pulls a throw from the back of the sofa. Ever so gently she drapes it over him, not wishing to interrupt his much needed slumber. Nonetheless, her fingers seemingly inadvertently graze his right shoulder and arm. As she bends her head low and drops a kiss on his forehead, she finds herself mesmerised once more by the constellations of his freckles and those full lips. She rolls her eyes, knowing he’s always going to have such an effect on her.

She pads softly through to the kitchen and switches the kettle on. Although she should probably try to go back to sleep, she finds peace and affirmation in this unusual interlude from routine. She pulls a mug from the cupboard and a wry grin crosses her face as it’s his favourite tartan one. It may be chipped and stained by the numerous brews it has held but neither of them can bear to throw it away.

This had been the mug he had drunk tea from during that fateful visit one snowy February when he’d made the lengthy trip to see her completely unbidden. To this date, even he has not been able to fathom the timing of his visit. Yet she knows she will always be grateful that he made the tortuous  journey through the drifting snow. Nevertheless, she hadn’t been in the slightest impressed when Katie had shown him through to her room, where she had passed out a couple of hours previously - post a rather exuberant and rowdy party.

She comprehends now how she had been so wrapped up in her University friends and the last throws of freedom before her finals, that she had pushed thoughts of him to the back of her mind. It is with more than a little embarrassment that she recalls how she had dragged him out to the local all night cafe in some misguided belief that physical separation of her old and new lives would engender emotional distance. Tea had been drunk in an awkward and strained manner, followed by a silent walk back to the house. Yet she had invited him in, only too aware that it would not be safe for him to return on no sleep.

That’s when he had recounted his grandma’s story, the one about the daisy who wanted to see the stars.She blames the steam from the boiling water for the tears that roll abundantly down her cheeks when she thinks of the brave daisy. All daisies close their petals at night and open them wide to greet the day’s radiant sunshine, but this one little daisy had heard stories of the moon and night’s dark skies full of bright shining stars. She had asked all her friends and relations in the meadow about the night but they had all told her that daisies can never see the stars. For daisies must keep their petals shut, lest they be bewitched by the moon and wilt the following morning.

This little daisy couldn’t stop thinking about the tales told by the birch and ash and she longed to see Orion’s light, Ursa Major, his companion the little bear and Perseus. Yet all her companions once again dismissively laughed off her longing as the fantasy of a foolish child. The little daisy was so disheartened that she tried to forget her idea. As spring wore into summer she struggled through the heat and started to shrivel as drought began. The wise old oak whispered that praying to the stars could bring rain. Now the daisy may have been afraid but she was brave with strong, deep roots.

And one night long after the other daisies had closed their petals and returned to nocturnal slumber, that little daisy found her courage. Slowly she unfurled her petals one by one and peeped out into the night sky. The sight that greeted her was the most beautiful thing she had ever witnessed. The sky was inky blue, unlike the cerulean of the day, and it was replete with hundreds, no thousands of tiny lights that twinkled out into the darkness. She was mesmerised by the greatness and beauty of it all and forgot her resolution that she was only going to stay awake for a few minutes. As dawn broke, the daisy quivered in anticipation of her fate. but nothing happened, and later that day, the rains began to fall.

Rae realises that she’s been so embroiled in her vivid visual recollection of the story that steam is no longer coming from the kettle. She sighs and presses the button again and remembers a tea bag for her cup this time. She shivers recalling just how he had made love to her that morning. Their eyes had never parted in what had been one of the most intense experiences of her life. And that’s when she had understood just how much she still felt for him and how close she had been to giving up on her dream.

Yet, is she were to ask him now, why he had chosen that moment to share that tale, she knew he would probably flounder for an explanation. It was as if those words had instinctively been found from somewhere so deep within that it would always remain nameless.

She pours the water into the cup and inhales slowly and deliberately to regain a sense of composure. Having poured the milk in and repeatedly dunked the bag with the spoon before its removal, she slowly makes her way back to towards the chair. She sits down wearily as her reminiscences involuntarily take her back to the summer that followed an Easter spent mostly in his room in Stamford. She had studied while he’d toiled extra shifts at the garage saving for the future she had envisioned in London near to her friends.

Back in Bristol, things had changed. The seemingly endless pressure of finals had weighed heavy on her shoulders, bringing a perpetual state of anxiety and exhaustion with it. Finn had graciously accepted that she required space to study and had only called at pre-arranged times. The impending exams had proved such a distraction that she hadn’t noticed the change in her for some weeks. But even when she had suspected what was going on, she had wilfully chosen to ignore the signs and carried on regardless. Afraid of what was to come, she had not called him when she had promised to, believing silence an easier companion than truth.

Inevitably, seriously partying had followed the end of exams. Woefully inadequately, she had tried to immerse herself in the multitude of social events with her friends, desperately clinging onto the hope of London life that Katie had sold her. But of course her body had denied her the pleasure she sought and it was the day before Finn had arrived unbehest that her suspicions had been confirmed.

She pulls a cushion to her chest and hugs it tight as that trip comes to mind. He would struggle to explain why he had simply shown up on her doorstep that morning, other than to ascribe it to her not calling him. She grimaces recalling how short and rude she had been; especially how patronising she had been when he had suggested Portishead. Yet his spirit was resilient and undeterred and she had willingly gone to Devon with him. She feels the tears prick her eyes once more as she remembers how nervous he had been. How every phrase was carefully worded, how upset he had been at the shingle beach.

Yet it had been on that very shingle beach, where snuggled against him, she had finally unburdened herself. And he hadn’t reacted as she would have expected, with neither fear nor disgust. He had immediately stubbed out his cigarette and bitten his thumb in deep contemplation. It had been quite some time before he said anything. He had been surprisingly steadfast in his support for her, in her right to make a decision and had initially held back any views he might have had.

A small smile creeps across her face as she thinks of how they found each other again in that shabby B&B, how they had laid the foundations for future. It may have been a little shaky at the start, but the courage of her convictions had returned. Giving into her gut reaction and deep seated need to be with him had proved liberating. With a stab of fear, she ponders whether she would have forced them onto a different path had she not been able to disentangle herself from the influence of her new friends.

Something else had become apparent to her in the aftermath, which she had lost sight of in all that was Bristol. Finn had shown that he was emotionally far stronger that she had thought. Unknowingly, she had tested him and pushed him to his limit on a number of occasions: renouncing the decisions they had made, declaring that she was unworthy and was ruining both their futures. It had been crucial for her to ensure that she would not return to Stamford. Against his better judgement he had agreed to London. But, after an impassioned speech, which had clearly illustrated the depth of his train of thought, she had relented, knowing that Leeds did not simply represent a compromise - it was the right decision for all of them. It wasn’t her who embodied the daisy at that moment; it was him.

She lets out a shaky breath and looks into her cup to discover that she has not drunk any of her tea. Sleeps all pervasive fingers are willing her to close her eyes once more. It’s a spell she cannot resist and she thankfully obeys.

**********

“Hey, hey sleepyhead.”

She opens her eyes slowly to see Finn smiling at her. But his attention is quickly turned.

“Shhh, hush won’t be long now.”  He rocks the baby cradled in his arms, gazing down on her with those warm brown eyes of his.

“Sorry to wake you. But this little lady needs something I just can’t give her.”

She grins sleepily and holds her arms out for her daughter.

Finn tenderly hands over the precious bundle dropping a kiss on first his daughter’s head and then Rae’s cheek.

As Rae settles her daughter, she watches Finn select a LP and place it on the turntable. As the soothing strains of Ride emanate from the speakers, peace settles upon them all.

“Do you want a tea when you’ve finished feeding Daisy?” He asks.

She nods and then the words escape her lips. “Finn….I love you.”

He frowns and bites his lip. “What’s …I mean…” He trails off.

She smiles. “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”


End file.
